The house after everyone is asleep for jet lag

Everything in the room is exactly where it was left. The radiator clicks once as it cools down. Everyone went to bed an hour ago, and the house has stopped making the sounds it makes during the day.

The lamp beside you is the only light left on in the whole house. The fridge hums on and off in the kitchen, and that is the loudest thing in the building. There is nothing left on the list for today.

Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Let your forearms get heavy and warm.

Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Your fingers can stop doing anything at all.

Outside, a car goes past and its headlights sweep across the ceiling, then are gone. A glass of water sits on the table, half finished.

Let your toes stop holding on to anything. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.

If you're irritated, that's allowed. Irritation is just weather. If nothing much is happening, that's not a problem. Nothing much is often the point.

Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs. Feel your heartbeat somewhere far away.

Slower. Let the room get slightly further away.

Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet. You can stop listening properly. Almost nothing to do now.

Do this sitting up, not lying down, if you have just eaten.

Let the words go now, and take the quiet with you.